


I'm Not Gay, But Please Be My Boyfriend

by imabignerd, luckypen



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Awkward Romance, Craigslist AU, Fake Boyfriend AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, college students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imabignerd/pseuds/imabignerd, https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckypen/pseuds/luckypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You got yourself into this one, you have to admit,” his childhood not-much-of-a-friend sniffed. Daiki swore he could hear the tell-tale swish of her thick head of hair being flicked imperiously over a shoulder. “I dunno, just buy someone off Craigslist or something. Or even better, suck it up like the grown man you are and just own up to your lies.”</p><p> </p><p>Family gatherings are, in Daiki's expert opinion, the absolute worst. Why anyone in his extended family cares enough to ask probing questions about his love life is completely beyond him - after all, he's only twenty-one and happily single, at that. But as it stands, the next family dinner is in under two weeks, so he'd better find himself a boyfriend, and <em>fast.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beware of Parents That Wanna Get You Hitched

“Oh, Dai-chan,” Satsuki’s voice, familiar in its long-suffering tone, came crackling through the phone. “You didn’t.”

Daiki groaned as he flopped unceremoniously onto his bed, an adult magazine crinkling under his head. He didn’t have to strain his ears to hear his parents’ low murmurs drift upstairs, for all their attempts at secrecy. Talking about him, no doubt. He scowled at his ceiling. 

“Yes, I told them that I’m a raging homosexual,” he groused miserably. (He thought he could hear his mum yell-whisper _‘but what about grandchildren?’_ from downstairs. His dad, the ever complacent one, told her in a slightly lower tone that _‘we’ve already told him that his happiness comes first. We’ll live.’_ While Daiki appreciated the thought, this wasn’t really the problem at hand.) 

The girl snickered, the sound irritating in Daiki’s ear. “In those exact words?” 

“Fuck off, I was desperate, okay? My parents have been bugging me for _weeks_ over this stupid family dinner, and it was the first thing that came to mind,” he grumbled, before pausing to drag a hand over his face. “Fucking really, why do they even care if crazy Aunt Matsuda asks after my love life, or if cousin what’s-her-face got hitched at twenty-two? Might as well just tell them the truth that no, Daiki hasn’t gotten a girlfriend yet, yes he’s twenty-one and single, now kindly fuck off and eat your chicken.”

“But Dai-chan, you’re not even gay, are you?”

The university student let out a loud grating bark of a laugh. Him, gay? “Hell no,” he scoffed, tugging the magazine out from under his head to spare a glance at the model’s generous D-cups. “I’ve got too much love for boobs. God’s gift to mankind, they are.”

“Yes yes, I think we all know about that,” Satsuki replied dryly. “Well, how’d your parents react then?”

And herein lay the problem. “After my mum had a minor meltdown over her loss of future tiny Aomine spawns, she told me to find a boyfriend by the fifteenth.”

“That gives you …” Her soft mumbles came out tinny as she counted the days under her breath. “A bit more than a week.” She sighed for the umpteenth time this call. “I hope you realize just how ridiculous you are. Why couldn’t you just have sucked it up and admitted that you lied, and you’re not actually interested in men?”

“I just –” He let out a huffy breath. “I _panicked._ No – goddamnit, stop judging me and listen, Satsuki – the damage was done, and I couldn’t take it back, alright?”

“In other words, your manly pride stopped you and now you have to find yourself a boyfriend to make up for it,” Satsuki summarized flatly. At her derisive snort, Daiki had to exercise considerable self-restraint from throwing his pillow across the room in a fit of frustration. What had he done to deserve this complete lack of sympathy? “Congratulations you dork, you tried to dig yourself out of a hole, and somehow managed to land yourself in an even deeper one.”

He groaned, and turned his face to bury it in the model’s comforting, albeit very 2D chest. “Stop patronizing me and help me out here,” he groused (and most definitely did not whine, thank you very much). His grumbles were coming out muffled against the shimmery paper of the magazine, but he really couldn’t be bothered to lift his head at this point. 

“You got yourself into this one, you have to admit,” his childhood not-much-of-a-friend sniffed. Daiki swore he could hear the tell-tale swish of her thick head of hair being flicked imperiously over a shoulder. “I dunno, just buy someone off Craigslist or something. Or even better, suck it up like the grown man you are and just own up to your lies.”

“Satsuki, you’re being unnecessarily difficult.”

“Now you know what I have to deal with every day,” was her clipped reply.

He harrumphed.

* * *

There were a surprising amount of boyfriends up for rent on Craigslist, Daiki came to find.

(Desperate times call for desperate measures, and he’s not above using shady websites as a means to an end.)

Granted, it was taking quite a bit of sifting – some were just _too_ manly for his tastes (he absolutely _refuses_ to rent out some dude who has bigger biceps than he does – no way in seven hells was he going to bruise up his manly pride more than strictly necessary, especially in front of his cursed extended family). Others were too ugly (desperate and not-homosexual as he is, he has standards), too tall (manly pride, Daiki, manly pride), too expensive (just who the hell do they think they are), too annoying (one had deemed it necessary to adorn his ad with the most ridiculous and unnecessary emoticons he’d ever had the misfortune to see; he’d closed the page as soon as he read ‘Hellooooo!! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ’). But, well, a start’s a start.

At least there was a faint glimmer of hope that some bloke would save him from his imminent doom at the hands of his over-bearing family.

Not one to give up when it’s his own neck on the line, he randomly clicked on another ad – ‘Fake boyfriend rental’ it read (very succinct, Daiki thought approvingly). He was met with a photo of a small, somewhat scrawny male. Could be promising. The student leaned closer to inspect the grainy picture. 

The person in the photo was reasonably pretty. With wide blue eyes gazing at something just past the camera, even lighter blue hair looking heavily windswept with the way it jutted this way and that, and lips that were parted slightly in a miniscule upwards curl, the dude was attractive enough that even Daiki can appreciate that he was decently easy on the eyes, even if his blank expression was weighing slightly on the creepy side. 

(Yes, he’s definitely pretty enough, if Daiki was going to be honest with himself.)

Daiki scrolled down to where the kid’s information was listed (Age: 20, Height: 168cm, Weight: 126lbs) along with his number. He snorted indelicately – while he didn’t want to hire someone too tall, this poor soul was a good _foot_ shorter than he is. What a midget, seriously.

Whatever. This kid was probably as good as he was going to get, as far as his remaining shreds of dignity were concerned. Daiki tugged over his smartphone and tapped the number in with deft fingers along with a brief message. He was long since resigned to his fate – he might as well get this over with. 

(Even if everything goes to shit, at least Aunt Matsuda can fawn over their complementary hair colours.)

Once he had managed a satisfactory text that most definitely did not take several tries to perfect ( _‘saw your ad on craigslist, accidentally told parents that i’m gay and now in dire need of a fake boyfriend, send help’_ ), he set his phone down next to him and leaned back on his chair. First step done – now, all he could do is wait. He let out a big whoosh of air, sent a cursory glance to the carefully blank screen of his phone, then clicked back to the open Facebook tab.

He jiggled his leg as he scrolled aimlessly through the feed. He’d never been particularly big on social media – he’d use it for private messaging, mostly, and occasionally writing a snarky comment on Wakamatsu’s wall because _why the hell not_ – but today, he was taking in even less of his feed than usual. At some point the words had all began to blend together, and Sakurai’s photo of his most recent bento-making initiative was beginning to look less like a photo and more a messy blur of colour. Daiki had to blink the bleariness out of his eyes more times than he cared to count for within just the last minute.

Of course, it probably also wasn’t helping that he couldn’t stop glancing at his phone.

When he caught himself glancing over for the fifth time within fifteen minutes, he grunted and pushed away from his desk. It wasn’t like anything particularly interesting was happening on Facebook as it is, and he clearly wasn’t feeling it. He snagged his phone as he staggered over to his bed, suppressing the violent urge to aimlessly glance at his phone yet again. Daiki could feel his damned stomach twisting itself into knots. Tiny, fluttering knots, but knots nonetheless. 

He was _worried._

He really didn’t need to be, he knew – after all, if this doesn’t work out, he’s got a whole repertoire of ads to go through online. He couldn’t help but shift uneasily, however. Like it or not, the clock was ticking and he really wanted – no, _needed_ this person to agree to help him out. Time was running out, goddamnit, and he didn’t particularly fancy spending another unnecessary half an hour on Craigslist looking up men of varying sizes.

He took a chance look at his phone screen again. No dice.

Flopped aimlessly on his bed, he curled over and began picking under his nails, counting the dots on his ceiling, anything really, to occupy his mind. He tried his best not to think about how disappointment curdled at the pit of his stomach. 

Why did he think this would be easy? Of course it wasn’t going to be easy – he’d fucked this whole situation for himself, so it was probably some deity telling him that he was going to have to try _way_ harder than that to right things again. He stretched his arms far past his head with a spectacular groan.

Just as he was mentally preparing himself to leave the enticing embrace of his warm blankets and spongy mattress, his phone buzzed loudly next to his head.

Smothering a distinctly unmanly yelp, Daiki rolled over and snatched his phone, heart pounding. 

_My apologies, I was away. Would you perhaps like to meet up briefly to talk about the details?_

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding ( _shut up man, don’t be weird about this_ ), before typing back a response.

_yeah, sounds good. maji burger at 2 tmw?_

Daiki tried his best not to throw up his arms in victory at the swift _‘See you then’_ that appeared on his phone.


	2. If Only Childhood Friends STAYED IN YOUR CHILDHOOD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm horrible at updating fics i'm so sorry _don't look at me_

“Hello, Mrs. Aomine!” 

_Finally._

Daiki made no move to get off his bed. After all, he was comfortable right as he was, and Satsuki knew the way to his room anyways. God knows she’d been to his place enough times.

(She’s quite an effective alarm clock – albeit a somewhat violent one – and had lugged him to class on several occasions throughout high school.)

Through the crack offered by his barely-open-door, he could hear his mum gush, “Momoi-chan! It’s always so good to see you –” a brief pause – she was probably tugging the girl in for a bone-crushing hug, as she always does, “What brings you here?” 

At that, he blinked his eyes open blearily, zeroing in on the conversation going on downstairs. He’d instructed Satsuki to keep her trap shut in front of his mother – at least for the time being – about the whole boyfriend business. He didn’t particularly need his mum to get on his case about it. He’d figured he’d just bring his stand-in date to the dinner, let her _ooh_ and _ahh_ at him for a bit, and then – _voila_ – everything would be great and he’d carry on with his merry single ways. 

He couldn’t shake the niggling unease, however. After all, when he’d asked Satsuki (see: demanded) an hour prior to keep quiet, she’d done nothing but snicker at him.

“Dai-chan called me for help to pick out clothes,” Satsuki replied, her voice getting progressively louder as she evidently began making her way towards the staircase. “Because, you know,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially (though really, Daiki could hear every word, and she probably knew it, the ass), “He has a _date. _”__

 _ _“I fucking called it,_ damnit Satsuki_ –” The infernally lazy college student immediately shot up and off his bed, scrambling for his door. Of all the things she could’ve said – he’s in it now, he knew. There was no way his mum was going to let this one go (he could imagine it now – _Daiki, why didn’t you tell me? Daiki, who is this boy? Daiki, are you planning on introducing us before the dinner? Daiki Daiki Daiki –_ )

Satsuki, you _traitor._

“Satsuki!” he hollered as he stuck his head out his doorway, glaring bitterly down at the girl who was coming up the stairs. She had a grin plastered on face that would do the Cheshire Cat proud, even as Daiki attempted to meaningfully stare daggers at her – in fact, it only served to make her shit-eating grin grow ever wider. “Satsuki, get up here already!”

“Daiki, why didn’t you tell me?” his mother scolded, peeking her head out from behind Satsuki’s retreating back. Her forehead drew up in lines as she peered up at her son, looking thoroughly disappointed. “I can’t believe –”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll tell you about him later, we’re uh, kind of on a time restraint here, sorry mum,” he rushed out, tugging Satsuki into his room by the wrist even as she snickered away at him (“Satsuki, stop _laughing –”)._ He shut the door against his mother protests as soon as Satsuki was in before shooting her a baleful glare. She dutifully pulled about as an apologetic look as she could manage (although more than anything, in Daiki’s humble opinion, she just looked constipated and definitely not sorry at all). 

“I hate you, you know that?” he groaned, flopping onto his bed unceremoniously. This entire ordeal was beyond stressful, and he was more than happy to fall back into his bed’s familiar and comforting embrace. 

She hummed, her footfalls soft against the wooden panes of his flooring. Heading to his closet, probably, knowing her efficiency. “Tell that to someone who’s not helping you out on a five-minute notice.” She sighed from across his room. “I have under an hour to piece something together from the atrocity that is your wardrobe. Seriously, Dai-chan, couldn’t you have called me earlier?”

“It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Unbelievable.” Rustling – there she went, probably dumping an entire month’s worth of laundry on his floor. “At least tell me a bit about what’s going on. Who’s this poor guy you bribed to go out with you?”

“I didn’t have to bribe anyone. It’s my charm and wits, clearly,” he drawled, poker-faced and completely unrepentant. However, Satsuki seemed to be taking none of his shit today (although, when did she ever?), and merely chose to stew in an unimpressed silence. He caved. “Okay, so I found him on Craigslist. But he’s agreed to meet up with me to talk, so that’s a start, right?”

“Huh,” she intoned, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d actually look on Craigslist – I was at least half-kidding when I suggested it. Here, try this –” Immediately, a stack of clothes whumped onto his abdomen, clothes hangers and all. ( _“Ouch!_ Gentle, lady, gentle!” he whined piteously, before sitting up grudgingly to tug his shirt off.) “But I mean, as long as it’s not some 70-year-old trying to catfish you …” The girl paused, before rushing on, her tone a smidgeon more concerned ( _How touching,_ Daiki thought dryly), “It _isn’t_ someone trying to catfish you, right?”

He frowned. _Huh._ “I hadn’t actually thought to that.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. “Dai-chan, one day I am going to find you rotting away at the bottom of a ditch, and I won’t even have the chance to tell you ‘I told you so.’”

“Yeah, yeah, what would I do without you?” he soothed half-heartedly as he started pulling his jeans off. 

“You are impossible,” she said, exasperated (although, with what he hoped was a tinge of fondness). “Whatever, it should be fine. I’d feel bad for the person who tries to mug a big oaf like you.”

“What the fuck,” Daiki protested.

She plowed on, undeterred, “At least try meeting him in a public place. Oh no, not _that_ shirt –” she tossed another tee at him impatiently, “Anyways, it’d be harder for you to get stabbed that way. Worst comes to worst, you’ll just have to sit through an awkward meet-up with some weirdo.”

“Oh, I’ve got that much. I’m meeting him at Maji Burger.” 

_“Maji Bur –_ Maji Burger isn’t a particularly romantic choice.” Satsuki was practically leaking judgment out of her pores now – for all she insists that he has the emotional intelligence of a particularly dense rock, he was certainly feeling her sentiments clearly even from where he was stood halfway across the room. 

He attempted to stare her down as she eyed his outfit with the critical eye of an experienced woman. “I thought this was a lunch with a 70-year-old who is trying to catfish me.”

“Dai-chan, _no._ That was the worst case scenario. Realistically, you’re about to take this poor soul out to what has got to be the least romantic date location ever.” 

“Whatever, it’s plenty romantic. It’s cheap.” At the deadly silence, Daiki hastily added, “I’m being considerate, see? Because um, he’s gotta be taking this job ‘cause he’s in need of cash, you know, so a cheaper place is better, right?” He mentally pats himself on the back for a fibbing job well done. 

“Dai-chan, weren’t you planning on paying for him?” Satsuki paused in her continued quest through his near-empty wardrobe, turning back to level an impressive stink-eye on him.

Daiki paused. “I was?” 

If Satsuki was sending waves of disappointment before, her words now held a whole new sharp edge of incredulous judgment. _“Oh my god –”_

In a last ditch attempt to save himself, Daiki added, “I mean, I’m going to paying the guy for helping me out as it is. Fuck it, it’s not like it’s a –” he wrinkled his nose, “date, ya’know?” 

Satsuki breathed hard through her nose. “Yes, but he’s going to be fake-dating you. Least you could do is take the poor guy out for a meal.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” Daiki retorted, affronted. “Also, are we quite done here? I think you fucked enough with my wardrobe for one day.”

“I mean exactly what I said,” she sniffed, “And you should show a bit more respect, you imbecile. I’m trying to make some sort of miracle happen here with your five different black tees. But really, why do you have five of the same shirt?”

“Oi,” he protested, “I resent that. They’re five very different shirts, thank you very much. See, that’s one got the CK in the corner, and that one’s a v-neck –”

Satsuki waved him off to chuck a light jacket at his head. “Yeah, okay Dai-chan. Whatever, try this, and you’ll look presentable. Probably.” She chewed at her lip contemplatively as he tugged the top on crossed his arms in front of his chest huffily. “Yeah, it looks fine. Drop the brooding look though. You’re not Edward Cullen, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Today has been nothing but insults to my delicate soul,” Daiki sniffed as he scrounged a discarded pair of jeans for his wallet. “What have I ever done to you, you monster?”

“I’m not dignifying that with a response. Also, we are going to do something about that hair of yours, mister. You’re not leaving the house like that, I assure you.” The pink-haired monster of a girl slapped him hard on the back with a resounding thump (“Ow! Woman, be gentle, goddamnit!”), ushering him towards the washroom. “Jeez Dai-chan, put some effort into your appearance, will you?”

When he was finally sent out the door half an hour later, already incredibly unenthusiastic about returning to piece his room back together (not a single article of clothing was left hanging in his closet, as they all found their home either on his bed, his chair, or his floor), his mother sending him out with a stern _‘I expect to hear everything when you’re back, young man’,_ he was already bone-tired and ready to go back home. 

(If it weren’t for Satsuki and his mother’s collective ushering – not to mention his actual desperation for this guy’s help – he probably would have.)

* * *

When he entered Maji Burger, the bell above the door chimed cheerily to the beat of his disgruntled shuffling. He was sweaty, he was tired, and _he didn’t want to do this, goddamnit._

Daiki scanned the store as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. No head of light blue hair seemed to be in the vicinity, however. He checked his watch. 2:10PM. He was late as it stood, but this guy was even tardier than him.

 _Whatever._ He took a seat at an empty table and glanced at his phone peevishly. “Where the hell is this guy anyways?” he muttered to himself. Aomine was never one for patience. He’d give the dude another 5 minutes before he peaced out. He absolutely _refused_ to look like a loser while being stood up by a catfishing 70-year-old. Plus, it wasn’t like anyone could say he didn’t _try –_

“Um, you wouldn’t be looking for me, would you?” 

“Hu – _uh!”_ Daiki smothered a startled yelp – that was most definitely not a shriek _goddamnit –_ and swiveled around in his seat to glare balefully at the offender. A not-70-year-old male with distinctive blue hair blinked back at him, much to Daiki’s immediate relief. He gave him a once-over – yep, the pretty but kind of creepily blank blue eyes were there; this guy’s the real deal – and immediately lit up approvingly. _Excellent._ “Damn kid,” he sighed, relieved, waving the other into the seat across from him, “you nearly gave me a heart attack. Where’d you come from?”

The other smiled apologetically as he slid obligingly into the seat. “I’ve been here a while,” he offered as way of explanation. He extended a hand. “I’m Kuroko Tetsuya.”

“Aomine Daiki.” Daiki eyed the man across from him. He wasn’t exactly seem the type of person Daiki would expect to sell fake boyfriend services. As far as he could gauge thus far, this Kuroko character was unassuming, ordinary. He held himself with a certain amount of propriety, his hands in his lap and his back held upright. Daiki subconsciously straightened slightly from his sprawling slouch. “So … you’re the one from the Craigslist ad, huh?” he tried warily.

“Yes, that’s me.” Kuroko nodded once. 

Not a talkative one, looks like. “Ah,” Daiki acknowledged, at a loss. He winced internally – now that he was seeing the real guy in front of him, things were definitely a bit more awkward than he anticipated. _Oh boy._

He stood up abruptly, fumbling to get out his wallet. While he worked on getting his shit together, he might as well take the chance to follow Satsuki’s rather forceful advice. As per her insistence, despite his wallet’s dying cries, Daiki offered nonchalantly, “What d’you want? My treat.”

Kuroko blinked owlishly up at him. “If you’re sure, I wouldn’t be against a vanilla shake.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, that’s it? Are you sure that’s enough?”

“Quite sure, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Daiki said, shrugging. Whatever, all the more for him then. At least Satsuki can’t call him out for being a stingy loser anymore. 

For all his attempts at being nonchalant, Daiki felt the effects of his nerves all the way through the line-up. Even when he’d gotten his order – Kuroko’s shake and two burgers for himself (that he’d nearly forgotten to buy, with how focused he was on not forgetting the other’s order) – he still was slightly jittery. Meeting someone new – someone who he needed to pose as his significant other, of all people – was _really_ not feeling particularly healthy for his nervous system. There was no real need to be nervous, he knew, but shit, this whole ordeal was _seriously_ out of his depth. Daiki snuck a glance back at the other male. 

Clearly, he was the only one getting all riled up over nothing. Kuroko was sitting peacefully at their table, face arranged in a smooth poker face as he scrolled idly on his phone. Daiki let out a sigh – _get your shit together, Aomine_ – then headed back, letting the tray drop onto the table with a thud.

“Ah, thank you,” Kuroko said, setting his phone down on the table. He took the drink, though not before turning his expectant gaze on Daiki.

“Yeah yeah,” Daiki waved. 

An awkward pause. He snatched a burger from the tray and began determinedly unwrapping it, making sure to crinkle the wrapping extra loudly in an attempt to fill the silence. This was probably his cue to ask for help. How the hell was he supposed to explain this mess anyways? 

Daiki heard a small intake of breath, before Kuroko broke the silence himself. “Tell me what’s going on then,” the other requested, tone passive and polite. “You accidentally told your parents that you are gay …?”

“Yeaaaah,” Daiki stalled. He glanced back up to see Kuroko’s eyes – calm and expectant – staring steadily back at him. He looked away to focus on a hardened speck of ketchup on the wall. “Well, uh, long story short, my family’s been demanding I find a girlfriend in time for this family dinner thing next week, so I panicked and told them I wasn’t interested in girls. Which, for the record, is not a thing,” he added petulantly, before continuing, “But yeah, now they’ve shifted gears and are now demanding I bring a dude back home. And uh, that’s about it.” Tearing his gaze away from the offensively red smear, Daiki chanced another glance back at the other.

“Huh.” Kuroko was visibly struggling to not laugh at Daiki’s plight. (It took all of Daiki’s self-restraint to not reach across and just pinch the edges of that twitching mouth because _laugh, I dare you.)_ “Why didn’t you, ah, just tell them that you didn’t mean it?”

“Oi, don’t laugh,” Daiki scowled. “Well, it’s too late now. Come on, help me out here, man.”

“So you need me to play the boyfriend.” Kuroko, face settled back into his poker face, hummed. “I think, Aomine-san –”

“Don’t call me Aomine-san,” Daiki immediately butted in, wrinkling his nose. When Kuroko paused to blink at him confusedly, he added as way of explanation, “I don’t need that formal shit. Plus, my parents are gonna find it weird.”

“Ah,” Kuroko agreed, tapping pale slender fingers against his chin. “That makes sense. What should I call you then?”

Daiki shrugged, leaning back in his seat. Most of the people he knew usually called him Aomine or Aomine-kun (among other variations such as Ahomine, but that wasn’t something he was going to readily admit to). “A good friend of mine calls me Dai-chan, if that helps,” he tossed out half-heartedly. 

Kuroko tilted his head just slightly, before conceding agreeably, “Okay then, Dai-chan.”

Daiki winced violently. _Wow,_ he _really_ did not expect the other to actually take up his suggestion. Now that he was actually hearing the nickname come from someone else’s mouth, he was realizing just how weird it felt. He supposed that ‘Dai-chan’ would just have to stay reserved for terrifying childhood friends. 

He shook his head hurriedly. “Wait, shit, no, that sounds really fucking weird. Scratch that. Just, ugh, I dunno, call me Daiki or something,” he implored. 

The other’s thus far impassive expression seemed to loosen slightly – in fact, the corners of Kuroko’s mouth were twitching upwards suspiciously again. “Oh I don’t know, I kind of like the sound of Dai-chan. It has a nice ring to it,” Kuroko replied peacefully. 

Daiki blinked. Was he getting sassed? He was definitely getting sassed. Huh. So this kid does have a sense of humour. He felt himself loosen up a little, his mouth teasing upwards into a smirk.

“Okay then, _Tetsu,_ whatever you say,” he drawled and leaned forward, setting his chin on his open palm. 

Now it was Kuroko’s turn to look bemused. “Tetsu?” he echoed.

“Oh I don’t know, Tetsu has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Daiki mocked without bite, making sure to send the other a wide shit-eating grin.

Kuroko pursed his lips, looking contemplative. “I’m surprisingly okay with that actually, Dai-chan,” he declared after a beat.

Oh god, that nickname gave him shivers – and not the good kind either. “Goddamn, that is like fifty shades of uncomfortable,” he groaned, tilting his face to hide his eyes behind his splayed fingers. “Maybe, let’s just go with ‘Aomine-kun’, shall we?” 

“Only if you promise me another vanilla shake the next time we see each other.”

Daiki snorted. He was beginning to see a slight trend. “It’s beginning to feel like I can bribe you to do anything with milkshakes, Tetsu.”

“Vanilla shakes, specifically,” the newly christened Tetsu corrected. “In any case, as I was saying, I was thinking that maybe we should get to know each other a little, just to fill in any gaps.”

“Alright, back to business I suppose,” Daiki sighed, leaning back in his chair. He waved his barely touched burger. “How do you propose we do that?”

Kuroko hummed as he took a sip of his drink. “For the duration of the next week, we can just take turns texting each other questions about each other. It will probably the best way to get to know each other under a time limit. It worked out okay with my last client, so hopefully this will work out okay too.”

“Seems simple,” Daiki shrugged. “I guess you can start then?”

“Okay," Kuroko agreed easily.

"Okay," Daiki echoed. "Is that all we need then?"

Kuroko dragged a finger along the side of his cup, then stared pensively at the condensation that collected. “We’re also probably going to have to make up stories, like how we met, how we got together, and so on, so we’ll probably have to meet up one or two more times to do that. Also, I wonder if we should also take some photos together to make the whole thing more believable …”

Daiki could feel the impending headache from the thought of all this extra work. He balled up an empty wrapper and tossed it onto the tray, before tilting his head back and letting out a loud, rumbling groan. “What have I done to deserve this?” 

“There there,” Kuroko said unsympathetically. Daiki could do little more than glare at the other, who simply resumed sipping away at his drink innocently.

He let his head fall back again, his eyelids sliding shut as he let out another weary sigh. It was going to be a long week.


	3. How to Get a Date: Bribery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a co-author starting this chapter! Say hi to luckypen, she's the source of all the sass /o/

Daiki let out a spectacular groan, face still planted firmly in his pillow, as he blindly groped above his head for his cell phone. The accursed thing was too damn loud at such an ungodly hour; he was going to give whoever was texting him _a piece of his mind -_

_Good morning, Aomine-kun._

It took his sleep-addled brain a moment to process (because since when had Satsuki started calling him Aomine-kun again), but then he caught the name that flashed at the top of his screen. So now they were doing good morning texts. He let his head fall back against his still-warm pillow momentarily, braced himself for the bright morning rays of sunshine that spilled unnecessarily into his room, then heaved himself back up to reply.

_mornin tetsu_

_the fuck r u doing up at the ass crack of dawn_

The reply was almost instantaneous:

_Aomine-kun, it’s already 10 AM._

_Let’s start with the questions today._

Oh yeah, Daiki had nearly forgotten about that. He stretched then sat up fully in bed, swinging around so he perched on the side before replying: _1st question, what the fuck r u doing up at the ass crack of dawn_

_Being a normal human being. What are you doing lying around in bed at 10AM?_

_sleeping. prob still wud be if u and ur old man lifestyle didnt wake me up_

_I’m hardly old, Aomine-kun._

Smothering another almighty yawn, Daiki sent a cursory glance at the clock that clicked merrily away across the room. 9:52. What the hell. _It wasn't even 10 in the goddamn morning yet, what the fuck Tetsu -_

Whatever. He was up already anyways. Might as well get his ass out of bed at this point.

After sending one more text _(“ok srs bsns. u in school? im at tokai in psych, 3rd yr”),_ Daiki stumbled down the stairs and made a beeline for the fridge. His mother glanced up from her iPad as he dragged himself into the kitchen.

Her eyebrows rose almost comically high. "You're up early today, aren't you?"

"You don't have to look so surprised," he grumbled, rummaging through the fridge, only to come up with just a measly cup of yogurt for his efforts. "Tetsu woke me up and I couldn't go back to sleep."

Daiki grabbed the yogurt with a resigned sigh and turned to find his mother frowning contemplatively. "Tetsu?" she echoed slowly, as if testing the way the name felt on her tongue. Her face suddenly brightened. "Is this the boyfriend that Momoi-chan was talking about?"

He glanced instinctively downwards at his phone, which lit up with a new message displayed: _Third year, Nihon University, studying education. Plans after grad?_

“Maybe,” Daiki replied absentmindedly, searching for an adequate response to the text. What _did_ he want to do after grad?

He was already pressing the “send” button on his carefully thought out _“survive adulthood”_ before he finally noticed that the room had settled into a thick silence. Daiki eyed his mother. She sat, arms thrown into a lazy cross against her chest, eyes trained intently on the table in front of her. He shifted uneasily.

“You know, maybe I didn’t bring home a boyfriend before ‘cause I knew you’d look at me funny,” he tested, a bit unsettled by her intense concentration.

His mom looked up at that, her brow a bit scrunched. “No no, I’m just - ” She shook her head as if emptying out the cluttering thoughts, before smiling warmly up at him. “I can’t wait to get to know him.”

Daiki immediately felt a crushing wave of guilt. If she only knew...

Desperate to escape, he padded towards the stairs for his room to finish his morning routine, mumbling a quiet “me too” under his breath as he went. When his mom asked (see: _yelled_ ) at him to speak up, however, he instead called back over his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t embarrass me.”

* * *

Daiki had spent a good part of his day texting Tetsu, and his overall opinion was that he was _boring as hell._

It was a relatively nice Saturday and Daiki had suggested date ideas from coffee to bowling to movies but had gotten shot down by Kuroko who sent back a terse _“Aomine-kun, some people study during weekends.”_

Daiki ignored the insult and replied _“and sum ppl go out on weekends. we shud do that”_ before flopping down onto the couch. Apparently, he wouldn’t be going out that day.

He sat up a bit at Kuroko’s next text, though.

_I believe I know why you’re single, Aomine-kun._

Squinting his eyes in suspicion, he typed out a wary _“whys that”._

_Stupidity is rather unattractive._

_The little -_ Daiki mashed out his response furiously, finger pads sliding indelicately across the smooth screen of his phone. He was _pissed;_ he was practically spewing steam from his ears.

_uR aFUCking ADSholef U KNWO THT?!?!_

_Illiteracy is also a rather unattractive trait._

His supposed-to-be saviour from Craigslist was turning out to be a sassy little shit. Frankly, Daiki was _this_ close to deleting Kuroko’s number and cancelling the whole stupid ploy, parental worries be damned.

Then he remembered how happy his mom had been that morning… and cursed. Loudly.

He sighed and mentally prepared himself before slowly picking up his phone (and making the conscious effort not to throw the damned thing across the room) to text Kuroko.

_ok. u know me. my turn. wat do u do BESIDES study_

When he didn’t receive an immediate response, it set Daiki on edge a bit. Kuroko was typically pretty prompt with replies.

_..._

_I’m sorry, I was expecting another insult.  
I read._

Daiki snorted. Of course he reads.

_wat a surprise_

_You asked.  
I also have a passion for vanilla shakes. Does that help?_

_unless we plan to talk about nothing but milkshakes, no_

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Daiki stared at the phone, willing words to appear on the screen. How the hell was he supposed to keep this up? Even _fake_ dating was too damn hard!

_at this pt my parents will think I blackmailed u into dating me  
(dont u fucking dare comment on tht u little shit)_

Sprawled on the couch once more, Daiki threw his head back and shut his eyes. Maybe he’d open them to find it was all a shitty dream and he could go back to his carefree life and ogle Mai-chan in peace.

When a few minutes had passed with no word from Kuroko, Daiki finally sat back up and opened his phone to no new messages.

_wat the hell tetsu. ur supposed to help me_

The phone vibrated with a new message before Daiki had even put it down on the coffee table.

_Aomine-kun told me not to comment. I assumed that meant I should stop messaging you. Also, what exactly am I assisting you with at this moment?_

_we have to figure out something we both like_

_Does Aomine-kun like vanilla milkshakes?_

_SOMETHING NORMAL_

_I believe food preferences are ordinarily deemed normal._

_we cant exactly have a conversation abt milkshakes_

_I highly disagree. But I suppose we can discuss that another time.  
What do you define as normal?_

Daiki hadn’t really thought about it. He sent back the first thing that came to mind.

_idk, do u like any sports or sumthin?_

A short pause.

_I was on the basketball team at my high school._

At that, Daiki immediately perked up, his interest peaked. Now, _basketball_ was something he could do.

 _THERE! BASKETBALL!_  
_i play too!!_  
_let’s play 1 on 1!!!_  
_i can promise you im pretty good_  
_im srs_  
_i play for my school team_

_Please contain your excitement, Aomine-kun._

_wat excitement_

_and wat about the 1 on 1_

Okay, so he was probably a little excited. But who could blame him? All Kuroko had talked about before was books or studying or milkshakes - not exactly the most interesting of topics. But Daiki had loved basketball from a young age. He could definitely talk basketball.

_I still have to study._

_teeeeetsuuuuuuu  
pleeeeaaseee_

_No, Aomine-kun._

Daiki chewed his lip thoughtfully. Ordinarily he’d let it go, but he was bored out of his wits, and this was a godsent chance to get to know Kuroko before the dinner in a week. He’d be damned if he let this opportunity slide.

He might feel bad later for taking advantage of Kuroko’s apparent weak point, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

_wat if i threw in a vanilla shake_

No response.

_a free vanilla shake tetsu. just for u_

_I'm offended you think I'm so easy._

_two_

_… I’ll meet you at the courts by Seirin High in an hour._

_Yes._ Hook, line, and sinker. Attempting to contain his glee (and probably failing spectacularly, judging from the way his dad looked at him when he went bounding up to his room to change), Daiki stumbled into the first clean shirt he could find, grabbed a basketball - he practically lived in basketball shorts and didn’t bother changing into a new pair - before flying down the stairs and whirling past his dad (who gaped dumbly at the door long after he was gone).

* * *

It wasn’t another hour and fifteen later until Daiki, panting heavily and already working up a good sheen of sweat under his jacket, finally managed to make it to the courts. He had been one stop away (and a good ten minutes early, for once in his life; Satsuki would be so proud) when he’d realized that he’d forgotten to buy Kuroko’s shakes in his excitement.

One trip to Maji Burger later, Daiki whirled around the street corner, using a nearby pole as leverage to swing around - milkshakes tipping dangerously as he went - and caught sight of Kuroko’s unmistakeable head of blue hair. Jogging closer, he nodded his head fervently in an attempt to catch Kuroko’s attention, hands occupied with a shake in each, and a basketball tucked away under one arm.

“Te -” he panted as he neared the other, dropping the drinks onto the nearby bench before plopping himself down next to them. “Tetsu. Hi. Hi, Tetsu.”

“Hello Aomine-kun,” Kuroko greeted peacefully, immediately reaching for a drink. Evidently, he’d started warming up without Daiki, his own breaths coming out in short puffs. “You’re late.”

“You can thank your shakes for that,” Aomine groaned, gesturing at the offending drink in Kuroko’s hand with a jerk of his chin. “I had to make an extra trip for them.”

Kuroko hummed. “That’s unfortunate,” he said unsympathetically, setting his drink down to take the ball from where it rested on Daiki’s lap. He dribbled it experimentally. “Come on, I thought you wanted to play.”

“What, no pity for the poor soul who just lugged two entire drinks over for you?” he lamented, though he pushed himself up with a mighty groan to obediently follow Kuroko onto the court.

“No pity for a man who can’t keep his appointments,” Kuroko shot back. He took aim at the hoop and released the ball.

Daiki watched it fly - its arch strangely low - and found his mouth twitching upwards in unrestrained amusement when the ball bounced rather anticlimactically off the rim. He coughed discreetly into his hand to hide his laugh.

“Close,” he wisely chose to call instead, jogging over to catch the ball that was now steadily making its way down the court. “But not close enough,” he teased. Catching the ball in one clean swoop, he casually tossed the ball one-handedly in a beautiful arc. It sunk in smoothly - nothing but net.

Turning to Kuroko, his smile sobered a bit at the lack of response, offended or otherwise. Daiki shifted uneasily in the silence. In an effort to explain himself, he tumbled over his words clumsily, automatically reaching to rub at his neck uncomfortably. “Uh, it was a joke, sorry. My friend, haha - um, my friend says I have a shitty sense of humor though, uhhh…” He winced.

Daiki’s panicked fumbling for words was interrupted by Kuroko’s smooth voice. “Aomine-kun is a show off.”

He looked over to see Kuroko, head tilted ever so slightly, with a neutral expression on his face. _Jeez,_ what was _with_ his poker face? One meeting and a basketball date in, and he still couldn’t read the guy. “Sorry?”

Kuroko furrowed his brow in a show of mild bemusement. “Why? It was a good shot.”

What? Daiki was at a complete loss. “Oh, uh… thanks? I thought you were... angry? Or something. I dunno.” He was acutely aware of how stupid he sounded. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if Kuroko deemed him beyond help. He was also starting to figure out why he was perpetually single. _Maybe I’d be better off becoming a fucking monk ... But then I’d have to swear off Mai-chan._

_Maybe I’ll become a stripper._

Kuroko let out a light laugh and the tension that had Daiki’s stomach in knots finally ease a bit. “This is turning out to be pretty useful for our fake relationship. Apparently I’m dating a hopeless dork,” Kuroko said, smiling gently.

Daiki immediately felt his face burn. Discomfited, Daiki scowled at the ground. _Shit._ He knew Kuroko didn’t mean that they were literally dating, but it still felt infinitely strange hearing the word come out of his mouth. “Oi,” Daiki growled, choosing to ignore the embarrassed tingling of his ears - traitors, both of them - to narrow his eyes at Kuroko instead. “Says the nerd with the milkshake addiction.”

“It’s a passion, not an addiction, I’ll have you know,” Kuroko replied - that poker face was _seriously_ throwing Daiki off - before heading over to grab the ball from where it rested a few feet away.

Watching from the side, Daiki’s mouth pulled up in a strange mixture of amusement and bewilderment. “Uh huh,” he answered absentmindedly, eyes fixed on Kuroko as the other positioned himself to shoot once more.

Daiki shook his head to clear his thoughts. If he was being honest, he still wasn’t quite sure what to make of this strange partner of sorts. In the space of a day, the man had gone from absolutely mind-numbingly boring to almost kind of endearing, when he set his mind to it.

He couldn’t suppress an incredulous chuckle when Kuroko turned to him with an expression of mild surprise and a flat “Ah. The ball went in.” He could definitely be a sassy little shit when he wanted.

Despite the odd milkshake obsession, Daiki had to admit the guy wasn’t half bad.


	4. Fake Boyfriends are Actual Assholes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's not late who's late certainly not this chapter _hahahahaha_

Daiki glanced down at his clothes one more time, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle with sweaty hands, before looking back up at the apartment number etched into the plate in front of him. With the way his heart was pounding against his sternum, it wouldn’t surprise him if someone informed him that some tenant nearby was beating away on a set of drums. He idly wondered if he should have brought something with him before scolding himself ( _Damn, Daiki, when the hell did you become such a fucking sap?_ ), then took another scan of the walkway, watching an old woman fumble with the keys to her apartment.

Frankly, it felt a little surreal to be standing in front of Kuroko’s residence - _Tetsu's apartment! The place where he eats and sleeps and reads like the nerd he is_ \- even as he scuffed his shoes against Kuroko’s very real welcome mat. He hadn’t wholly expected to be there, after all.

Daiki hadn’t even meant to see Kuroko at all that day, actually. They were still doing the whole 20 questions thing via text, and he’d just wanted to mess with the guy a bit so he’d sent (his idea of) a funny text:

_so does this thing of ours include me getting some action? or?_

Of course, being the stick-in-the-mud he was, Kuroko had sent back “ _I’m a bit curious as to what that “or” would encompass._ ”

Not quite sure himself, Daiki had sent a vague “ _u know…_ ” in reply.

He hadn’t expected the “ _Well, you can come over to my place if you like._ ” that had followed up in response.

And now he was here.

Shifting uneasily on his feet and glancing around once more - taking care to send a bitter glare at a mother who ushered her toddler along, while giving him a suspicious look - he sighed, looking down at his phone for the umpteenth time. His finger paused on the smooth cover of the doorbell. He’d already wasted at least a good five minutes by hovering over Kuroko’s doorstep. Maybe he should just leave…

But he _was_ already there.

He pressed the doorbell, just barely pushing it, making him wonder if it had even registered his touch. Mustering his nerve once more, he pushed again, harder - and just a little too long this time. He winced at the long tones of the bell echoing inside the apartment and wondered if hopping the banister down to freedom five stories down would be an overreaction to the erratic beat of his heart.

“Afternoon, Aomine-kun.”

Daiki clamped down a jerk of surprise when the door swung open to reveal blue eyes blinking guilelessly up at him. "Shit, Tetsu," he groaned, stepping into the apartment as Kuroko wordlessly moved to let him in, "give a man a little warning, will you?"

Kuroko fixed him with a distinctly unimpressed look as he passed to disappear around the corner. "You're the one who rang the doorbell."

Sighing, Daiki slipped off his shoes to trail behind Kuroko. He glanced around, noting the nondescript furniture and decorating. A bland place for a bland guy, looks like.

“Soooo…” Daiki hummed as he was led past what had to be the living room - if the mismatched sofa and recliner weren’t any indication - and into a narrow hallway. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans to hide his discomfort. “What’s, uh, what’s the plan?”

“Well, you said you wanted to do something, so...” Kuroko pushed open a door, name plate - a small white plaque with ‘Kuroko’ printed neatly in small narrow lettering - swinging with the movement. He cocked his head, ushering Daiki into the room. “This is my bedroom. My roommate’s is next to mine, and the washroom is across the hall.”

“Ah,” Daiki replied intelligently, shuffling awkwardly into the room. He plopped onto a cushion on the floor without invitation, glancing around as Kuroko took a seat across from him. Plain white desk and bedsheets, and unassuming beige cushions. “This place is… nice.”

“If it pains you that much, perhaps you should skip the compliments."

Wincing internally, Daiki acknowledged that with a feeble "Uh. Yeah." Following that logic, Daiki shouldn't have come over altogether. He was seriously lamenting the fact that freedom was no longer a five story drop away.

In an attempt to cover his discomfort, Daiki offered Kuroko a lazy grin - that felt so wrong on top his discomfited expression, but Kuroko didn’t need to know that - and moved past the awkward niceties entirely.

"So, inviting me over on the third date, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Kuroko just raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "I'm sorry, Aomine-kun. Is that significant? I simply thought I would provide the setting since you seemed to have something in mind for us to do." Tilting his head innocently, he waited for Daiki to reply, wide blue eyes and all - as innocent as a kid asking what's for dinner.

_Bullshit._

“You little bastard, you know what I meant,” Daiki growled half-heartedly, eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aomine-kun.”

He still had that stupid face on and Daiki wondered if he actually, genuinely had no idea what that text had meant. _Not sure if that's pathetic or cute..._

“Y’know. Like - er, you invited me over… so, uh - “ He wavered. Trying to put the original intention into words was proving to be much more embarrassing than he’d anticipated. He'd been staring determinedly at the bookcase along the wall as he spoke, but let his stammered attempt at an explanation taper off when he looked up at Kuroko’s face.

That _bastard_.  

Kuroko had a hand held up to his mouth, his eyes _oh so slightly_ squinted in what had to be an attempt to cover up an amused grin. Damn him, he was probably laughing it up internally if he’d let his impressive poker face slip.

“You!” Daiki took a deep breath, and grit his teeth against the burning wave of irritation. “You’re an ass, y’know that?”

Kuroko leaned forward, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he answered, “But apparently an attractive one, considering you’re asking me to bed already.”

“You’re also a dick for letting me fucking embarass myself.”

“To be fair, Aomine-kun, I believe you are highly capable of that all on your own.”

Daiki straightened up, all indignation and wounded pride, using his clear height advantage to glare down at Kuroko who eyed him keenly. "You _asshole_ \- "

"Are all your insults sexually-oriented?" At that, Daiki fumed, arms crossed firmly across his chest, eyes narrowed as he opened his mouth to counter. Kuroko interrupted him, however, with an innocent, "Oh. I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"You - okay," he breathed, chanting _calm the fuck down, Daiki, calm the fuck down_ in his head. "Okay. So now that we've established that _isn't_ what's going on -" Kuroko's lips teased upwards at that; Daiki had to choke down the sudden violent urge to punch him in the face. "What did you _really_ have in mind then?"

Looking mildly disappointed at the lack of opportunity to poke fun at Daiki again - much to Daiki's bitter relief - Kuroko hummed, his slender fingers tapping lightly against his cheek, before saying, "Well, since you're here, we might as well be productive. We still haven't planned out the details of our fake relationship yet.”

Letting out a sigh, Daiki slouched, settling into a more comfortable position. They were in more neutral territory now, at least. He waved a hand lazily at Kuroko. “Alright, shoot. What do we need to figure out first?”

“How did we meet?”

Daiki groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. “I dunno. I don’t do this mushy stuff. That’s why I’ve got you, right?” he said, gesturing with his other hand in Kuroko’s general direction.

In that same passive tone as ever, Kuroko answered, “I suppose so. However, most couples tend to remember how they met. And by couples, I mean _both_ partners.” Daiki eyed Kuroko warily. Damn him and his perpetually blank face.

Groaning, but raising his eyes to meet Kuroko’s and acknowledge his point, Daiki suggested, smug grin in place, “You came by Tokai one day and just couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

Kuroko simply raised one brow skeptically, before repeating the initial question. “So how did we meet?”

“Oi! If you’re just gonna ignore me, then don’t ask, bastard!”

Placing a hand beneath his chin and raising his eyes to the ceiling in thought, Kuroko mused, “Perhaps we met at a cafe between our two schools while studying? Or I could have tutored you for a class?”

Daiki let out a derisive snort before covering his mouth to physically muffle his dubious laughter. “Yeah. While you’re at it, let ‘em know I wore a pretty pink dress and heels.” As his chuckles trickled off into silent, amused shudders, he looked at Kuroko and grinned, “If we’re going for realistic, studying is about the absolute worst explanation you could’ve come up with, buddy.” Leaning back with his hands flat against the plush carpet, he shot Kuroko a lazy grin and a silent look that implied, “What else ya got?”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Kuroko leaned forward to level an irritated look at Daiki. “Alright, fine. What do you propose?”

Taking the question as a challenge, Daiki considered his response more seriously this time. “How about - “ He eased back, settling against the soft blankets on Kuroko’s bed and laying his head back to stare at the ceiling, the fibers of the blanket tickling his neck softly. “ - we met through basketball.” A small smile settled on his face as he thought back fondly to their trip to the courts near Seirin. “I saw you shooting on a court - and missing. So I joined to show you how it's done and it just sorta… continued from there. We met on the courts for a while, then started dating officially.” When Kuroko didn’t respond, Daiki raised his head, expecting to be met by another judging stare. Instead, Kuroko seemed… bemused.

Unnerved by the unfamiliar expression on Kuroko’s face, Daiki straightened up, shoulders tensing involuntarily. “What?” he asked warily.

“Hm?... Oh. Nothing. It’s just…” Kuroko cocked his head to the side, causing Daiki to shift uneasily beneath the intense focus of his gaze. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

Shifting his gaze and praying desperately that his dark skin hid the sudden burn of his cheeks, Daiki grumbled out an embarrassed, “Shut up, idiot.”

Kuroko let out a soft chuckle. “You’re also slightly endearing.”

Daiki’s face scrunched up involuntarily at the word “ _endearing_ ”. It made him sound like a chick. Or a child. He wasn’t sure what was worse.

Apparently his look of disgust amused Kuroko, who reached across to prod him teasingly in the bicep and added, with a hint of - was that fondness? - in his voice, “You’re also quite childish.”

Unsure if he was more angry or embarrassed, Daiki voiced his thoughts, “Oi! Y’know, I can leave if you’re just gonna insult me.” He straightened up, readying himself to make good on his threat. He’d gone through enough emotional turmoil for one day. In his humble opinion, at this point, he was well deserving of a burger - or three - and the comfort of Mai-chan’s better-endowed company.

His thoughts were interrupted by Kuroko’s polite “Oh, I thought that a fairly pleasant trait. I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

The heat that had coloured his face just a moment before came back in all of its radiant glory as he jerked his head around to look Kuroko in the eye. He cursed the ugly flush that had most likely begun creeping to the tips of his ears at the wide-eyed look the other was giving him. He certainly didn’t think this blue-haired sass machine, who’d been giving him nothing but grief from day one, was _cute_ , with his stupid scrunched up brow and big eyes and - oh god, was the man _pouting?!_

“Er… Just - just move on. What else did we have to figure out?” he asked, settling back down, and pointedly avoiding Kuroko’s gaze.

With only a slight gleam in his eye to betray his still-present amusement, Kuroko took pity on Daiki and easily followed the change in conversation. “How long we've been dating might be an important detail.”

Daiki laughed bitterly. “ _‘Might’_! Trust me,Tetsu, that’s probably going to be the first thing out of my parents’ mouths, right after ‘Hello, nice to meet you’.”

“Perhaps we’ve been dating for a little over a month? That way it doesn’t seem so opportune to your parents,” Kuroko suggested.

Daiki groaned loudly. “Too late. I had a huge fight with my parents over this. It would probably take a fucking proposal for them not to be suspicious.” He looked up at the ceiling, cursing his lot in life for the nth time since that stupid fight. Fucking really, was it so bad to be single?

Kuroko’s mouth thinned in thought and Daiki heard him hum quietly. “Perhaps… We’ve been friends for a while - through basketball, like you said - and we’d gone on a couple dates, but hadn’t officially begun a relationship until recently.” Looking up, Kuroko smiled. “We only officially started dating after this argument you had with your parents. That way, your parents might be distracted by their supposed helping your love life, and you can argue that you were dating, but had no boyfriend.”

Daiki’s eyebrows shot up. That was actually a pretty valid idea. “You’re pretty good at this making stories up business, aren’t you?” he ventured, before pausing. “Oh, but I guess you probably have done this a few times before. Given, you know,” he gestured widely, “Craigslist. And all that.”

“You know,” Kuroko said thoughtfully, “I’ve only actually done this for one other person before, so I’m actually fairly new to all this.” He flashed a small smile in Daiki’s direction. “But I’ll take the compliment, thank you.”

“Um, yeah.” Daiki paused momentarily, a little floored by how nicely Kuroko smiled - when he wasn’t laughing at Daiki, that is - but managed to gather his thoughts enough to recall another key point to address. “But, uh… What about the whole… gay thing?”

Kuroko’s face settled back into its usual blankness. “I’m sorry?”

“Erm - “ It felt beyond awkward to verbalize, but Daiki managed to get out, “My parents - and, well, everyone - pretty much saw that I’m totally straight. So, uh…” he trailed off, searching for the words. Luckily, Kuroko grasped the idea and saved him.

“Ah. Well, considering I’m apparently attractive enough that you’d ask me to bed already,” Kuroko softened the teasing jab with another smile and Daiki felt the highly unwelcome burn return to his cheeks, “maybe you just fell for me.” Kuroko moved to get up, the rest of his words tinged with laughter, “You can say you’re still figuring out the ‘gay thing’, as you call it. A little bit of truth always makes the lies easier to remember.” Daiki wasn’t quite sure how to process all that. It sounded good, but at the same time, he had no idea what Kuroko was saying.

Kuroko straightened his clothes and looked down at Daiki to propose dinner - “I hope pizza is alright?” - and Daiki grinned. He could use the break.

Just a little over an hour later, the two, appetites sated and feeling comfortably lazy, had settled into their respective spots. Kuroko sat upright on the bed, leaning against the wall for support, while Daiki lay claim to the bed as he sprawled across the blankets, arms hanging off the side to reach the pizza box on the floor and idly pull at the fibers of the carpet.

“If I find crumbs in my bed later, I hope you know you’re expected to do my laundry,” Kuroko warned, staring Daiki down before he could (not-so-subtly) wipe his hands on the light blue blanket.

He rolled over and swung himself up to face Kuroko, repositioning himself so he lay on his stomach, head propped on his arms and legs crossed in the air. Flashing a sheepish grin, Daiki replied, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kuroko let out a derisive snort, flicking Daiki’s forehead, ignoring the subsequent “Oi!” that he let out. “Uh huh, I’m sure.” He stretched languidly, before scooting over to get up, the springs of the bed creaking. “While you stay and refrain from littering the remains of your dinner on my bed, I’ll go and clean the mess.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Daiki admonished playfully, reaching out a hand to snatch Kuroko’s wrist. When the other looked down at him, he grinned charmingly - or at least, he hoped it was charming. “Come on, Tetsu, take a break.” He patted the blankets next to him invitingly. “I’ll help you clean up later.”

“Take a break from what, precisely? We’re not exactly doing anything,” Kuroko replied. He’d caved though, evidently - he sat back down obediently, the mattress dipping at Daiki’s side.

"From boring stuff. Like studying and cleaning and - " Daiki waved a hand airily " - other stuff." Rolling over again so he lay on his back, he looked up at Kuroko and grinned. "Y'know, you, sir, look pretty good upside down."

Kuroko laughed obligingly before doing his best to look cross. "Should I be concerned of how you thought I looked before?"

Daiki scrunched his brow, attempting to forcing his face back into neutrality. With the way the corners of his lips refused to stay down, it was pretty obvious that he was failing spectacularly. "Yeah. You're pretty scary normally."

"That hurts, Aomine-kun," Kuroko complained lightly.

Nodding seriously, some of his hair hanging off the edge of the bed, Daiki continued, "No, really. It's not normal for anyone to be that cute."

Daiki thought he might fall off the bed at the slight rosy hue - it was slight, but definitely there - that dusted Kuroko's cheeks. _Holy shit, Tetsu’s_ blushing, he marveled. Half-conscious of his actions, he pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo of Kuroko, who was too stunned to turn away in time.

Eyeing the photo, Daiki laughed triumphantly before flipping the device to show Kuroko. "See? Tetsu looks great upside-down."

Kuroko let out a strangled noise of protest and scrambled to grab the phone, but Daiki pulled it away first, dangling the phone just out of Kuroko’s reach. "Woah woah woah. Exactly what are you planning to do to upside-down Tetsu?"

Affronted, Kuroko reached for it once more, but managed to grab nothing but thin air as Daiki swiped it away. "I'm trying to delete my photo," Kuroko gritted out, one arm straining, the other pushing, as leverage, against Daiki - who'd gotten up and held the phone well out of Kuroko's reach, fully taking advantage of their glaringly obvious height difference.

"Tsk. Pretty sure my phone means my photo," Daiki argued, laughing at the small grunt Kuroko gave as he stood on his tip-toes and stretched his arm, only to grasp Daiki's forearm.

"I take back what I said earlier about 'childish' being a good thing," Kuroko grumbled miserably, taking a break to glare huffily up at Daiki.

"What happened to 'endearing'?" Daiki teased, closing his phone and pocketing it, one hand covering the pocket just in case.

"I take back the 'endearing' part too," Kuroko answered, eyeing the arm that led behind Daiki's back to the phone and the stupid photo on it.

Daiki was confident in his victory - until Kuroko unabashedly lunged at him, shoving a hand in his back pocket to grab the mobile. With a pitched yelp, Daiki stumbled back a step, as Kuroko snatched his phone with deft fingers and a triumphant, “Got it!”.

“Oh come on, that’s playing dirty,” he groused, recovering from the surprise. He held out his hand expectantly. “Give it back here, you thief.”

Kuroko shook his head, eyes focused intently on the phone screen. “Not until I delete that photo."

“Gee, Tetsu,” he sighed, plopping himself back down on the bed. “What did that poor photo ever do to you?"

He looked up when his phone was held out in front of him. Kuroko’s face was set in a petulant frown as he shook the phone pointedly in Daiki’s face. Bemused, his eyes flitted to the screen; it was lit up with a message, prompting him for the code to unlock the device.

Finally registering the problem, he smirked up at Kuroko - only serving to deepen the other’s scowl - before asking innocently, "Yes?"

Eyes narrowed, Kuroko demanded, "The code, Aomine-kun."

"Hm?" Daiki tilted his head to one side in a show of guileless ignorance. "I see that it's asking for a code, Tetsu."

Pursing his lips in frustration, Kuroko prodded once more, "Put in the code, Aomine-kun."

Daiki smiled back with saccharine sweetness. "Aw, Tetsu, now why would I wanna do that?"

"I will lock you out of your own phone. Don't test me," Kuroko warned. To prove his point, he keyed in a random combination, waving the mobile in front of Daiki’s face as it vibrated and prompted for another try.

"Mhmmm," Daiki threw up his arms and yawned, long and loud. "You have fun with that. I think I'll take a nap."

Ignoring Kuroko's increasingly threatening "Aomine-kun"s, he sprawled out across Kuroko's bed, tucking his arms beneath his head. Taking care to shoot one last, lazy grin at Kuroko, he closed his eyes with a drawn out "Goodnight, Tetsu".

Lying still on Kuroko’s bed, Daiki accidentally drifted off into a light doze - lured to sleep by the comforting warmth of Kuroko’s bed, and the surprising quiet in the room. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes later that a click sounded near Daiki's head. Groaning in protest at the intrusive noise, he cracked his eyes open ever so slightly to glare blearily upwards. Kuroko stood over him, holding up his own phone with a distinctly unattractive picture of Daiki, mouth slightly agape in sleep.

Kuroko smiled sweetly at him. "Revenge."


	5. Flirting 101 with Aomine "Smooth Moves" Daiki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've actually had this sitting in our files for a while, it's shorter than usual BUT TAKE IT WE'RE SORRY
> 
> two week update schedule has now been updated to 'an update will come eventually probably' because what are consistent upload schedules

A week passes terrifyingly fast when you’re dreading a family dinner that spelled nothing but the most embarrassing possible end to your pride as a human being, Daiki came to find. 

(He wasn’t not being melodramatic, no matter what Satsuki says.)

He’d been productive, at the very least. He’d met up with Kuroko one more time to solidify their backstory, and the texts continued ( _“I want a dog, but my roommate’s terrified of them. Do you think he’ll get used to dogs if I throw him into the dog park and leave him there?”_ Kuroko had sent one night. Daiki dutifully noted in his mental collection of "Tetsu Facts" that he had a soft spot for animals and a definite sadistic streak). But no matter how many times he told himself that _‘Daiki, you’ve prepared for this like you’ve never prepared for any exam before,’_ he couldn’t help feeling more than a little jittery.

It was showing, and he was well aware of it. His mum had sent him a number of exasperated glances throughout the evening despite her martial pre-family dinner prep schedule, and had let out a lasting groan when he dropped the sofa on his foot in the midst of helping his father reorganize the furniture. (In his defense, Daiki was too busy worrying about what saves he could use if he accidentally called Tetsu by ‘Kuroko’, or if Kuroko called him Aomine-san, or _god forbid, what if Kuroko called him ‘Dai-chan’?)_

After tidying up the living room to his mother's very precise expectations, he piled his arms with jackets and other laundry (that may or may not have been mostly his) and stumbled up the stairs, arms laden with his excuse to finally escape from the hell that was his mother in expectant-hostess mode and a muttered "Be back down in a bit" that he hoped would not be held against him later.

Depositing his clothing in a corner of the room, he plopped down on his bed and pulled his phone from his pocket, groaning at the time because _Holy fuck, who the hell is so productive at fucking 1 pm? What the fuck kind of demon mother am I related to?!_

Although, in a slim ray of hope, he noticed a reply from Kuroko to his hastily sent plea for _"plz tell me you rly need me rn bc I might explode if I dont leave this house"._ Hoping he could finally leave the suffocating confines of his house - and his mother - he opened his message, only to find a very unhelpful and very irritating _"Perhaps Aomine-kun could come tidy up my apartment instead."_

He snorted. _Typical._

_gee thx. if i actually explode just know my death will be on ur hands_

He waited a few anxious beats for Kuroko’s reply, incredibly conscious of the sounds of his mother bustling around downstairs; he seemed to be in the clear for now - she had her claws hooked into his father for the time being (“Where are the finger snacks that I asked you to get?” came floating up the stairs, a distinct scathing edge to her tone that released a sigh from the tension in Daiki’s belly as well as some vindictive pleasure in knowing her ire wasn’t directed at him, for once).

His phone pinged with Kuroko’s response: _“At least you won’t need to attend the family dinner tomorrow if that happens.”_

Daiki couldn’t withhold his derisive snort as he keyed in his reply.

_haw haw, hilarious  
youd just love tht wudnt u_

_Not really. I wouldn’t get paid if that were the case._

_i see where ur priorities lie. u monster._

_Guilty as charged._

_"fck u tetsu"_ was his immediate reply, though to show that he’d meant it with no bite, he sent a follow up _"i guess its a bonus tht im so gr8 huh?"_

It took almost offensively little time for Kuroko to deny him. _“I don't think I quite agree. I'd rather a boyfriend that didn't drool on my things.”_

Daiki spluttered at the screen a bit before angrily mashing in _"I DO NOT DROOL TYVM”._

The next message surprised him. There was no text, but it had a single picture named “proof”. Upon opening it, he glared at the screen. _That bastard._ Filling the screen was the very candid, very unattractive photo of Daiki sleeping on Tetsu’s bed - and drooling. _A bit._

Exhaling out an angry breath, Daiki prepared himself for war. _You wanna play huh?_ Scrolling through his own photos, he found his own picture he’d taken of Kuroko blushing upside-down, and sent it with the caption _“well gee im so embarrassed”._

His thumb hit the button to send and he smirked, staring at the screen in anticipation of Kuroko’s response.

He felt triumphant when Kuroko sent back a simple _“How rude of you, Aomine-kun.”_ with no embarrassing picture this time. He didn't realize that they had only ever taken one photo each of the other.

Smiling slightly in victory, he typed back _“u started it”._

The reply was almost instantaneous. _“I wasn’t the one who was rude first,”_ Daiki had barely enough time to read, when that damned photo of him Definitely Not Drooling pinged onto his phone again.

“Really?” Daiki grumbled under his breath. He couldn’t help a small, reluctant grin from tugging at his lips, however, and he took a moment to rub at his face, exasperated. Alright, two can play at this game.

_Photo attachment: 1  
ur so not cute_

_Photo attachment: 1  
You seem highly unattractive as well._

_Photo attachment: 1  
OI i said uncute not unattractive! u think im ugly???_

_Photo attachment: 1  
There was no need to attach my photo to that last text, Dai-chan._

_Photo attachment: 1_  
_u never answered my question!!  
AND DONT CALL ME DAICHAN_

_Photo attachment: 1_  
_I think this photo answers your question well enough.  
Dai-chan._

“Daiki!”

Daiki couldn’t help a small jolt when his mother’s voice snapped sharply into his room - oh god, _since when’d she come upstairs?_ \- as she stuck her head around the corner, glaring suspiciously at him.

_Oh, shit._ He’d forgotten that the distinct lack of Daiki in the living room was probably sticking out like a sore thumb. With a shrug and a nervous chuckle, he offered a sheepish, “Hey, mom.”

“If you have enough time to be laughing to yourself, you certainly have enough time to help me look for your aunt’s mug!” she barked, then immediately slammed the door behind her. As she creaked her way down the stairs, Daiki could still hear her grumbling mutinously to herself (“Why that lady _has_ to use that stupid mug, _I don’t understand -”)._

Once she’d left, Daiki scowled down at his phone, abruptly overly self-conscious of his facial expressions. Had he been laughing to himself? He coughed lightly, glancing at the latest text from Kuroko that was still taunting him from his phone screen.

_Photo attachment: 1  
What a catch my dear Dai-chan is._

Daiki snorted. _“Dear”._ The man had managed to find something even more horrifying than Dai-chan. Trying and failing to keep a smirk from his face, he tapped out a quick _“ur not so bad urself babe”_ and attached the photo before pocketing his phone. Standing up, he stretched his neck and groaned, but called down to his mom, “Did’ya find it yet?” and headed down the stairs, hand wrapped around the phone in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me for any characterization errors - i'm still trying to figure out their characters as i'm going, so hopefully i'll get my shit together soon! also hmu on tumblr @ [im-a-big-foig](http://www.im-a-big-foig.tumblr.com), i have an unfair amount of feelings over this pairing that i need to express
> 
> also TIL that kuroko's lighter than me, _what an asshole_


End file.
